Bounty Hunter
by badwolfbay99
Summary: When someone attempts to kidnap Aramis the four Musketeers must figure out why. Set after series one.
1. Chapter 1

Porthos wrinkled his nose when Aramis passed him. Aramis stopped and looked at his scrunched up face. "What is it?" He asked, cheerily awaiting an insult.

"Why is it you always seem to smell of flowers?" He laughed. "Trying to bring out your feminine side?"

"It's probably something to do with the the brunette hanging off his arm this morning." D'Artagnan pitched in taking off his leather gloves. They had just been out riding and they were preparing to drown their troubles at the local tavern.

Porthos nudged Aramis laughing with a look that said,'classic Aramis', but he was ready to fight back. "Porthos, you smell like a donkeys behind, I think that's why I turn more eyes than you." He laughed and walked a safe distance away from his friend.

"Now that's uncalled for..." He said a meschevious grin stretching accross his face as he readied to have a wrestle with his close friend. D'Artagnan watched in amusement from behind while they both glared mockingly at each other. Porthos was about to make a move when Athos arrived, walking between them.

"Are we finished?" His tone was blunt and lessened the smiles on the faces of his companions. He walked down the street on the way to the Wren expecting the others to follow. D'Artagnan hurried at his feet but Porthos and Aramis took a more leisurely stroll behind them, still jostling.

When D'Artagnan caught up with Athos the conversation was scarce, his face was worn and tired from stress and D'Artagnan guessed that he hadn't slept in a long time. Ever since what happened with his wife, he only spoke when it was necessary and he hadn't graced anyone with even the smallest of smiles. As a group it was a constant competition as to who would make him smile first. D'Artagnan was sure that his hard work in training would triumph, Aramis tried to introduce him to a lot of women and Porthos... Tried being himself.

Porthos came forward and pushed his head between their two heads, his arms wrapped around their necks. "Cheer up!" He cried "I think I will be very lucky on the cards tonight." He winked slyly at D'Artagnan who smiled (Porthos had a bad reputation in his card games) but all Athos managed was a disapproving glare.

Aramis was about to join the three infront when a group of hands dragged him round the corner and forcing him back onto a cart. One of them had his leather gloved hands pushing against his mouth throat so that he could barely breath never mind make a sound. Somewhere in the madness he managed to get an arm free, he jabbed back with his elbow and the man holding his mouth gave a yelp and loosened his grip. He yanked himself forward and, realising he still couldn't yell, brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled, a short sharp whistle that echoed across the nearby streets.

The three Musketeers sharply turned on their heels, D'Artagnan was the first to react, as he had already noticed Aramis missing. He sprinted in the direction the whistle had come from, closely followed by the other two. Adrenaline pumped through D'Artagnan's veins as he saw the cart pulling away. Only just by a sprint did he manage to board the cart that was now racing away at top speed. Too fast for the others to catch up.

When on the cart he saw four men Aramis were trying to fight off and another one holding the reins at the front. He dove into action shoving one man off the cart and digging his sword into the next and for a moment it seems the two Musketeers would win. Suddenly a musket ball flew into Aramis' arm and he cried out in pain.

"Don't move or I'll kill ya." Growled one of the men in the front seat, he waved a newly loaded musket at them and then passed it to his ally left standing amongst the two Musketeers. The man in the front smiled grimly, "Aramis, someone put a price on your 'ead son, so your coming with me whether you like it or not."

"Care to put a wager on that?" D'Artangnan smirked, grabbed Aramis by the shoulders and shoved him off the cart with all his might. He tumbled onto the soft mud floor of the streets further out from the town and was unharmed.

As for D'Artagnan, the second man had whacked him round the head with the musket so quickly that D'Artagnan didn't even know what hit him. "Stop!" cried the man, we lost the cargo." But as he looked back to where Aramis had fallen he saw two Musketeers pass him on thunderous horses, heading straight for them. "Go faster!"

Athos had just caught up with the cart, his eyes piercing and his face full of rage. He was ahead of Porthos because his horse was faster and he was lighter, but most of all the ditirmination is what got him there. When in line he pulled out his musket and aimed at the man holding the reins but the second man was faster, he shot at his horse but narrowly missed throwing Athos of target and causing him to miss with his shot, startling Porthos' horse so that it almost threw him off and forcing him to stop. This gave the man just a second while Athos drew his sword but that was all that was needed. He grabbed D'Artagnan's sword that lay beside him. He knew he would never beat a Musketeer is a sword fight but he didn't need to.

"Stop!" He yelled, dragged D'Artagnan up by his hair and put the sword against his throat. "Stop now or I'll slit his throat." They man licked blood away from his lips from where Aramis had elbowed him in the face, he gritted his teeth and dug the sword into his neck so that a trickle of blood seeped out. But his hands were shaking and sweat pored from his face, he was no murderer but Athos didn't dare push him in this state.

Just then D'Artagnan stirred, it took him a few seconds to realised the situation and when the blade cut into his neck he took action. He grabbed the sword, the opposite end to were the man was holding it, and ripped it out of his grip. In the confusion he shoved D'Artagnan off of the cart so he fell and hit a stationary wagon on the side of the dusty road. While the man was still dazed Athos struck, stabbing the man in the chest so that he collapsed among the other two men who had attacked them earlier and now lay motionless. A twinge of guilt struck him momentarily but then he had tried to kill his close friend and that was unacceptable.

Though he longed to finish off the other man left on the cart, he heard D'Artagnan cry out in pain and pulled the reins so that his horse came to a stop. When Athos reached D'Artagnan he saw his face screwed up in pain as he clutched his shoulder. Porthos had just caught up but before he could dismount Athos ordered him to get Aramis as D'Artagnan needed medical help.

It was just minutes later that Aremis returned on Porthos' horse, he leaped down and rushed over to check his new patient. "He's dislocated his shoulder." He said bluntly, he ordered the other two to hold him down. "This is going to sting." He said looking straight at the boy, "on three." D'Artagnan nodded, "one" Cried Aremis and shoved the arm back into the socket.

D'Artagnan cried out in pain but was securely held down by his friends. "You call that three?" He yelled and Porthos laughed heartily as they helped the young Musketeer to his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the garrison Aramis was stitching D'Artagnans hand because of the large cut he obtained when grabbing his own sword. He winced as every stitch entered the centre of his hand, Aramis was forced to hold it down so that he did to flinch each time. It was only when Aramis had begun that D'artagnan saw blood on the sleeve of his friends shirt. "Have you not tended to your wound?" He asked remembering he was shot in the arm.

"It was just a graze." He half mumbled. "And besides, a doctor must tend to his patient first." He smiled at D'Artagnan, a smile from Aramis was always infectious.

When he had finished stitching and dressing D'Artagnan's wound D'Artagnan offered to help him with his wound, which, as he had said, was only a graze. This struck D'Artagnan as strange seeing as the gun man was so close it was unlikely he would miss, unless he had deliberately done so, not wanting to kill him. He ran his hand on the cut on his neck, luckily it was not deep enough to need needle work, Aramis had joked it was just a scratch, even so it was evidence that the kidnappers were not so merciful to others.

When they had finished they left the infirmary to go to Captain Treville's office, he was waiting for them with Athos and Porthos. The Captain got straight to the point, "They say someone is after you Aramis, any ideas why or, better yet, who?"

"Honestly, I have no clue." He shrugged. "I can't think of someone who would go to this much trouble."

Athos slapped him on the back, he exchanged a glance with the Treville. "We have decided you should stay in the garrison until we know more."

"But mostly we need someone to babysit D'Artagnan." Porthos smiled and looked over at D'Artagnan's disgust.

"Why do I have to stay?" He cried, he hated missing out.

"You can't fight." Said Aremis and Athos in unison, the Captain had to hold back a smile. He always thought of these four as brothers and unfortunately for D'Artagnan, he was the youngest.

D'Artagnan was about to argue back, misunderstanding until Porthos pointed to the bandaging on his hand. "It takes a great Musketeer to injure himself with his own sword." He grinned at D'Artagnan but D'Artagnan just narrowed his eyes in return.

"You can't fight without ruining my beautiful needle work." Aramis put in. He was slightly annoyed at being grounded to the garrison too bit he understood why and respected their opinion.

It was then that D'Artagnan realised he couldn't hold a sword or musket to fight with and backed down, still finding it terribly unfair, he left with Aramis.

Athos turned to Treville. There was an unknown tension between the two as they stood staring for a while until Porthos shifted slightly and they remembered they were not alone. Treville looked grave as he spoke in a low voice. "Find out whats going on." He looked at Porthos and then Athos once more. They both bowed their heads slightly and left his office.

Aramis and D'Artagnan sat at the wooden table in the courtyard of the garrison. Aramis looked over to his younger friend. His face was glum and he just at the other two Musketeers as they rode out on their horses, they were to follow the tracks left by the wagon earlier.

When they were safely out of sight Aramis sprang to his feet and headed over to the the horses, he looked back at D'Artagnan's confused expression and grinned, the sort of grin that's normally found on Porthos' face when playing a game of cards. "Well you didn't think we were going to sit here on our back sides." He watched D'artagnan's eyes light. "Hurry or well never catch them."

ooooooooooooooooooo

In a dark room sat a dark man, dressed from head to toe in black. He had a wide stance reflecting his strength and confidence. Another man entered, trembling before the black figure, "I'm sorry." He said trying to keep his voice hard but he wavered. "There were others with him, there always seems to be, we didn't stand a chance."

The man in black grabbed him by the neck and forced him against the stone wall. "Then you get rid of them and bring me Aramis." He leaned his face in close so that he was centimetres from the man's face. "Now run along and bring me my Musketeer." He released him and patted him on the head before shoving him out of the door.

He turned around as a beautiful woman emerged from the shadows of the room. She also wore black. A long laced dress and a black ribbon that kept her hair up. Her lips were a deep red and her hair was a deep auburn and she walked up to the man and placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear.

"Don't worry," her voice hissed gently, "we'll make him pay." She pulled his blank expressionless face into the light. His eyes had dark circles and his black curly hair was a mess. She looked into his empty eyes and kissed him gently on the lips and then on the neck.

He pulled away and turned his back on her, she looked worriedly after him. Anger gripped her heart whenever she thought of Aramis walking free.

**...**

**AN: hey, so this is chapter two, hope you like it. Not so much action happens it his chapter, sorry :s oh and I know its quite short but... Oh well.**

**Please review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Two Musketeers trotted through the lush green forrest on horseback, the heat pulled their shirts to their chest but they didn't remove their hats. Porthos had been moaning for the most their journey about heat, despite the fact he always longed for it in winter. Athos kept his eyes focused on the cart trailers left in the soft mud. It was impossible to tell how long ago he had left the conversation but it didn't matter. Porthos could talk for the both of them.

A distant snapping twig brought them both to attention. They strained their eyes to scour the area. Porthos turned so that he was protecting Athos' back from a possible attack. A small movement caught Porthos' eye but before he could shoot a musket sounded and the man fell from the trees. Athos' gun smoked. That's when all hell broke lose.

More men appeared amongst the branches of the trees and they both ran for cover as musket balls rained down on them. Porthos managed to shoot another down but there were too many men. They both managed to find shelter behind a vast tree, unharmed. The horses had bolted and were no where to be seen.

Porthos and Athos hurriedly reloaded their guns. The men in the tree had silenced fire and the two assumed they were doing the same. "We can't take on all of them." Cried Porthos cleaning his gun. "There must be twenty of 'em."

Suddenly there were gunshots and the sound of men falling from the trees. Porthos took this chance to fire his own musket whilst their gunfire was directed, Athos followed his suit. "Good job it's not just us then." He said, his voice showing no clear signs of panic. He nodded over to where they saw D'Artagnan and Aramis not far from them. "It's about time." He and Porthos took shelter behind the tree once more and began cleaning their guns.

Porthos smile stretched across his entire face. "You knew they would follow." He said laughing and shaking his head in disbelief, he snapped his musket shut, once again fully loaded.

Athos smiled, it was small but the first in a long time. "Naturally." He turned swiftly round the tree and shot another round with his musket. With a grin Porthos did the same and together they took out the last lot of men, all of them plummeting from the trees.

When they were sure it was safe the four men met in the centre of the clearing.

"Turns out I can use a gun with my other hand." D'Artagnan smiled, holding up his non bandaged hand for them to see.

Aramis was close behind him. "And we knew you'd get into trouble." He smiled at Porthos who rejoiced in having all his friends near.

Athos was more serious. "We must be close, they will have heard the muskets." He looked over in the direction that they were heading before being interrupted. "They'll probably be gone by now."

"Annoying tactic." Porthos said sternly though he always had a shadow of a smile on his face. "The fact we couldn't reach them just made me want to throttle them more." He laughed.

They looked around and found a hut nearby, the place had been hastily cleared and there was no sign of anyone. Athos was right. They had used the shooters not only as a defence but as a type of alarm system to warn them of someone approaching. Whoever they were, they weren't amateurs.

"We had better find the horses." Athos looked around the hut. It was clean and dry and would make suitable shelter. He realised that by the time they had found the horses there would be no point pursuing the criminals further. "Then we shall stay here for the night." He announced and the four left for the wood to find the horses.

oooooooooooooooo

The man in black stood in the wing of the church surrounded by candles. Tears dripped down his cheeks but she gently wiped them away with her finger. Tears began to form in her own eyes, "Please," she cried her voice soft and upset, "I am fine, look at me Adalhard." She had his face cupped in his hands and they were both on their knees. "I cannot stand this." She put her forehead against his.

Suddenly he gingerly pulled her head back and looked deeply into her intense brown eyes. "If he had got your hands on you I don't know-" his voice wavered and he looked away again.

"But he didn't, we got away, you were right, we heard the gunfire." She said desperately babbling. "Please look at me." Her voice broke like his had. They were so close she couldn't bear seeing him like this.

"I need some time alone." He said looking to the floor. "I need to be with the him." He mumbled through sobs. Reluctantly she left, not taking her eyes off of him until she had closed the door behind her. Eventually he heard the horses' hooves thunder away and he breathed a loud sigh.

He jumped to his feet and wiped the tears from his face as if they were a blemish on his skin. He straightened out his clothes that had creased slightly from kneeling and left through the door with a slight bounce in his step.

When he reached the small room for confessions he spoke clearly and confidently. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned."

**...**

**AN: Sorry I haven't written in a wild but I've been really busy. I hope you like this chapter as much as the others and as always: Please Review :)**


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